


you are my discovery

by zoeyclarke



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Anna is the most supportive sister ever (and maybe a little pushy), Dorks in Love, F/F, Fluffy, Give Elsa A Girlfriend (Disney), Lots of sisterly love & bonding, No longer a one shot at the request of... many haha, Self-indulgent little fic, Spoilers for Frozen 2, Takes place about a year after the sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoeyclarke/pseuds/zoeyclarke
Summary: Dearest sister,You are cordially invited to dinner in three days. We have some big news to share!!! Also, please note that bringing a date is mandatory. You will be turned away at the gate if you are alone. (Just kidding, we’ll still let you in, but I will be very unhappy with you.) See you soon ;)Love, Anna
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (background), Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 68
Kudos: 1285
Collections: Disney





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> so i saw frozen 2 yesterday and i am in love. as soon as that scene with elsa and honeymaren by the campfire came on i was instantly like "lesbians" so. of course disney couldn't indulge us, so i had to indulge myself with this little fic. it was pretty difficult to characterize honeymaren imo based on what little we saw of her in the movie, so i tried my best! hope you all like it and thanks for reading <3
> 
> title is taken from "discovery" by kailee morgue.

In her three years as queen, Elsa had watched her little sister grow from an excessively energetic girl barely out of her teens into a courageous and mature young woman. And in the year since Anna took over as queen, she has consistently displayed her newly developed critical thinking skills. Without fail, each time Elsa goes to visit Arendelle, she finds a well-organized, peaceful, and happy kingdom. Queen Anna and Kristoff, her husband of six months, are precisely what the people need and deserve. It warms Elsa’s heart— a wild concept, yes— to see them thriving down there. There was a time when Elsa worried her sister would never outgrow her stubborn and somewhat self-centered outlook on the world. But then Anna became queen at the same age Elsa had, and she’s still proving herself to be one of the wisest twenty-one (almost twenty-two) year-olds that Elsa has ever known.

But then again, some letters like the one Elsa holds in her hands now really make her wonder about Anna’s maturity level. It’s certainly something that wavers from where it should be sometimes. With a sigh— which conveys more amusement than she’d like to admit— Elsa reads over the letter again:

_Dearest sister, you are cordially invited to dinner in three days. We have some big news to share!!! Also, please note that bringing a date is mandatory. You will be turned away at the gate if you are alone. (Just kidding, we’ll still let you in, but I will be very unhappy with you.) See you soon ;) Love, Anna_

This is classic Anna. When she catches the smallest hint of something, she clings to it for dear life and never lets go. Elsa knows exactly where this behavior is coming from and she can’t say she appreciates it.

“Oh! Did you get a new letter from your sister?”

The now very familiar voice punctures Elsa’s bubble of security in an instant. She spins around to face Honeymaren, who has a bow slung haphazardly over her shoulder. It’s an amusing sight to take in because Elsa knows how much Honey dislikes hunting. She can barely stand to shoot an arrow into a tree, let alone a living animal. _“I’m always afraid I’ll accidentally hit one of the reindeer,”_ she confessed once, and Elsa can’t say she blames her. She finds it sweet how quickly Honey can turn over the abrasive personality she often displays to other humans into something gentle and sweet towards animals.

“Yes,” Elsa says softly, running her fingers over the creases in the paper. Anna’s letter had arrived shaped like a swan this time, carried over by Gale with flapping, fragile paper wings. It was becoming a bit of a competition between the sisters; now Elsa would have to get creative for the next letter. “She’s invited me to dinner in a few days.” 

“How lovely!” Honey leans on a tree, the softness of her hide coat contrasting with the rough bark. Her cheeks look soft, too, actually— her skin glows. Elsa wonders what it’s like to touch something so warm. Honey appears to sense Elsa’s hesitation, because after a few moments she says, “You are planning to go, aren’t you?”

Elsa’s fingers fumble with the letter again. She sweeps a bundle of hair over her shoulder and gives a half-hearted shrug. “I... I suppose I will. Anna says she has big news. I can’t resist hearing what that is. Hopefully it’s not that the kingdom is in shambles. I don’t think I could handle that.” She chuckles, and hates the way the laugh trembles nervously through her lungs and out into the cool air. She’s known Honey for _months_ now and it’s simply _maddening_ that Elsa gets this way around her. Her body acts on an entirely different plane of existence from her brain.

“You’ve certainly dealt with plenty in the past year. Both of you have,” Honey hums. She has this way about her that sends a foreign kind of chill up and down Elsa’s spine. Her voice is so soft it’s barely there at all, and it’s almost all too easy for it to be snatched and carried away by Gale. So many times over the last several months, Elsa has found herself sitting across a campfire from Honey while her friend tells a story, and Elsa has no choice but to lean closer and closer to the point of almost singing her hair if she has any chance of hearing the words rolling smooth as silk off Honey’s tongue. And those hazel eyes reflecting the orange flames, turning them into amber orbs surrounded by a beautiful face in a dusky forest...

Thinking about all that is what brings Elsa to not-so-accidentally reveal the other detail of Anna’s letter. “There’s one other thing too, actually. Um...” She lets out a slow, measured breath. “She—” She stops again, scratching the back of her head. Why is this so difficult? Is her mouth not even connected to her brain anymore? It takes a bit of struggle before she can finally spit it out. “She, well, she... haha... she wants me to bring a date.”

The woods around them seem to slow down, and it’s entirely possible that’s on purpose because magic can do crazy things. Honey pushes off the tree, her eyebrows raised. “Oh. Well, who are you bringing? I haven’t seen you talk to any of the men here.” Her gaze shifts down, away from Elsa, to the leaf litter at their feet. “I- I mean, I get it. It’s definitely slim pickings up here.” Then she grits her teeth in a stiff smile, eyes flicking back up to meet Elsa’s. “Please don’t tell me you’re... thinking of bringing Ryder, or—”

“Oh, no, no, I—”

“— oh, good. Because my brother is... well, you’re not really his type.”

Elsa nods. She knows what that means. She saw the way he looked at Kristoff with hearts in his eyes. They would’ve made a sweet pair, too, if Kristoff wasn’t tripping over his heels for Anna.

It’s now or never, Elsa decides, and Anna’s silly schemes have never caused true harm (yet). Besides, she doesn’t want to face an angry Anna; Elsa has seen her sister’s face turn as red as her hair before, and it’s an unsettling thing to witness.

“You know, I was thinking of... of asking you to come with me,” she says. The words come out in a jumble, too loud and too quiet at the same time. Then she closes her eyes, draws in a frosty breath, and waits for Honey’s response.

To her amazement, the next word Elsa hears is “Yes.” It comes almost immediately, and her eyes pop back open to find a grinning Honeymaren, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. “I would love to,” Honey adds. Elsa kind of wants to reach out and hold one or even both of those hands, but that would be too forward. Wouldn’t it?

But then Honey defies that too, and she reaches forward and weaves their fingers together. Elsa has to keep her guard up or else her power will leak out of her fingertips and seal them together. How terrible would that really be, though? (She could think of some ways to thaw ice quickly, if it came down to it.)

* * *

Three days later, Elsa and Honey wake up bright and early. They spend the morning preparing, gathering the belongings necessary for a one-night stay in Arendelle. By midday they have a sleigh packed and the least reluctant reindeer picked out to pull them, and before long they’re off.

The journey isn’t very long, and luckily the weather stays clear the entire time. Another thing that happens to last the duration of the trip is the location of Elsa’s right hand curled into Honey’s left. Cold never bothered Elsa much, but suddenly her other hand feels uncomfortably numb without Honey touching it. She’s never _felt_ this intensely about someone before, not in _this_ way. And whatever “this” way is... well, the possibilities terrify her.

They reach Arendelle just before nightfall. The sunset is like an oil painting, spilling pinks, yellows, and oranges into the sea gently lapping the shore. The guards at the palace don’t hesitate for a second to allow them past the gates; however, Elsa doesn’t miss the way they double take at her, apparently still not used to seeing her not so prim and proper. That look always fit Anna better, Elsa thinks. Her little sister embraces the gowns and jewels and heels with open arms— on the condition she can still enjoy a taste of nitty gritty adventure every now and then. Kristoff helps remind her of that side of life, of course. Frequently.

A second set of guards swing open the enormous, ornate front doors. Elsa has never felt more anxious walking into her former home before. Especially considering this time she has another woman’s arm linked with hers. Elsa hadn’t been planning to present themselves this way, but then Honey just kept holding on to her and she _really_ likes the way it feels to have her so near.

They make it barely five steps into the foyer before Anna pops out of thin air. She squeals and runs up to pull Elsa into a choking embrace. The force is almost enough to break Elsa and Honey’s linked arms, but they manage to hold on. Then Anna moves to inflict her suffocating hug on Honey, who grunts but stays strong while sharing a side glance with Elsa.

It gets to the point where Elsa has to say, “Okay, Anna.”

Anna winces and frees the brunette. “My apologies, ladies. I’m just... well, I’m very excited you’re here.”

“Yeah, we can tell,” Honey laughs.

Elsa nods in agreement. Anna’s excitement is _definitely_ palpable: there’s a tremor in her muscles and a little bounce in every step she takes. It’s amusing seeing Anna’s energy all bundled up into the formal facade she has to maintain as queen. Still, though, underneath the neatly pinned hair, finely detailed attire, and layers of makeup, Elsa can see the Anna she knows clear as crystal. She’s admittedly a bit jealous that her sister can shift between both personas so effortlessly.

“Well, come on, I’ll show you both to the drawing room.” Anna falls into step with them as they walk down the corridor, steps soft on the plush carpet. Then Elsa feels a sudden jab in her side. Making sure Honey isn’t looking, she turns to glare at Anna, then at her sister’s very sharp elbow.

 _“Excuse_ you,” she hisses.

Anna says nothing, only jerking her head at Honey and winking not-so-discreetly. Elsa wants to run upstairs and jump out the nearest window.

In the drawing room they reunite with Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven. Elsa can’t help the relieved smile that stretches her lips; she’s glad to see it’s just their own little group tonight. Plus Honey, of course. But Honey doesn’t feel out of place here, Elsa realizes as she watches her companion strike up eager conversation with the snowman.

She stands next to Kristoff and mutters in his ear, “So, would I be correct to assume I was the only one instructed to bring a date?”

He smirks knowingly at her. “How did you guess?” He gestures indistinctly in the direction of the others. “I suppose we could say Olaf and Sven are each other’s dates. That way everyone’s paired up.”

“Oh, no. Nobody could ever steal Sven away from you,” Elsa says with a snort. He throws her a mock offended look and she shoves his arm lightly. “I’m just being honest!”

Eventually they’re seated for dinner, Anna and Kristoff at opposite ends of the table, Elsa and Honey beside each other on one side, and Olaf and Sven on the other. Olaf’s carrot nose barely reaches the table, but he’s delighted to be here nonetheless, and Sven lacks a chair because, well, he really doesn’t need one. Any of the waiters who hadn’t been inclined to serve a reindeer at the dinner table had been politely dismissed a while ago.

The wine is poured and food is served, and it only takes five minutes for Anna to grow too impatient to wait any longer. She sets down her fork and leans forward to scan over everyone at the table. “So... as you all know, Kristoff and I have some news to share. We wanted to make sure everyone most special to us would be here tonight, so we’re happy you all could make it.”

Elsa suppresses an eye roll. It couldn’t have been too difficult for everyone to make it considering four out of the six present live in the castle.

Anna continues, “Now, before I say anything more, I just want to make sure nobody else has news of their own to share.” It doesn’t take a pair of eyes to notice how obviously Anna stares at her sister as she says this.

Silence falls over the table. The only noise is Sven’s chewing as he slurps up the last of the food on his plate. Olaf turns to admonish him— _“Sven!_ Chewing with your mouth open is _impolite!” —_ but the wide grin on his face dampens the impact of the words.

Elsa crosses her arms and stares evenly back at Anna. She’s not about to give in because frankly even _she_ has no idea what else her sister could want from her right now. She brought a date, and said date is a person she likes very much, in fact. What else could be expected of her now?

“Okay, guys... last chance to avoid upstaging our news!” Anna glances hopefully around one last time, and her shoulders noticeably droop when no one steps forward. “Alright. Well, here goes.” She chews on her lip and drums her fingers on the stem of her empty wine glass— a glass that had never been filled in the first place. Elsa hadn’t missed that detail.

Kristoff himself is so jittery that he has to scoot back his chair, stand up, and go over to Anna’s end of the table. He stands behind her chair and leans forward so they can tangle their arms together over her chest. Then she inhales and says, “We’re having a baby.”

Sven snorts happily, but Olaf is the first to fully react. He gasps and hops up in his chair, dancing around. “Oh! A baby! This is incredible news! I’ll be the best uncle, don’t you guys worry. I’ll read to them at night, and take them out exploring— not in the forest, though, I promise. Not until they’re older. Oh, oh! And I’ll...” He continues listing off various activities while the news sinks in with Elsa.

To be honest, she’d had a feeling ever since she received the letter three days ago that it was something along these lines. Elsa likes to think she has some kind of invisible tether to her sister, something that aligns their emotions even through a great distance. And Elsa has really been so happy lately— she knows that wouldn’t be possible if Anna was miserable back in Arendelle. And, yes, probably being free of overwhelming royal duties and spending lots of time climbing up enchanted trees and telling campfire tales with Honey has helped feed her joy, too... but Anna is always part of it. Whether in the background or foreground. No matter what.

It takes a minute for Elsa to realize Anna is staring at her, waiting for some kind of response from her sister. “Elsa?” Anna asks, voice cracking between the two syllables, and Elsa’s heart lurches.

She meets her sister’s big blue eyes and gives her a smile. “Olaf is right. This is incredible news.”

Honey is beaming too. “Congratulations, you two! How long have you known?”

Kristoff sighs. “It feels like we’ve been keeping this from you guys forever. I guess it’s been a couple weeks. We just needed time to absorb it ourselves before telling everybody else.”

Anna giggles. “Yep! Next step is telling the whole kingdom!”

He grimaces. “I can foresee endless deliveries of knitted baby clothes in the near future.”

“That’s a good thing. That means the people really love you as their queen, Anna.” Elsa stands, and Anna does to so they can join in a hug that is now equally tight from both sides.

While they’re embracing, Anna mutters in Elsa’s ear, “You knew the whole time, didn’t you?”

“Sometimes a sister can just tell,” Elsa says. Then she pulls back, looks at her, and adds, “Also, you didn’t drink any wine and I saw you stuffing your face with chocolate in the drawing room.”

“Oh, come on. The second one isn’t unusual.”

Elsa tilts her head and concedes. “Fair enough.”

Later that night after everyone has retired to bed, Elsa has just finished changing into her nightgown when there’s a knock on the door. She smooths out her hair, figuring with a prickle of annoyance that it’s Anna returning to tease her about the whole being-in-love-with-Honey thing. Not that that’s a thing. Not at all.

But to her shock, it’s Honey herself. She only opens the door a crack, peeking her face in. Her eyes are sleepy, narrower than usual, but there’s a particular glint in them that makes Elsa’s heart crawl up her throat.

“Sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if you could spare a pair of stockings? Somehow I forgot mine.” Honey grins sheepishly at her.

Right away Elsa nods and goes to retrieve some socks from her bag. “You can come in,” she calls as she does this. She hears the door creak open wider, then softly groan shut again once Honey is in the room.

“Here,” Elsa says after a minute. She circles back around the bed and hands the item to the brunette. “Believe me, I understand how freezing it can get in here at night.” Truthfully Elsa hadn’t ever noticed it much, but she feels the need to plug something, _anything,_ into the silence. The socks suddenly seem like the least important thing ever, though, with the way Honey is gazing at her through slitted eyes. Gorgeous hazel eyes.

“Thank you,” Honey hums. “I appreciate it.” 

That should be the end of it, but she lingers, and Elsa appreciates that she lingers. Without either of them needing to look, their hands find each other again. They stand there for what must only be a few seconds but feels like hours. Then Elsa can’t take it anymore and she surges forward, bringing their lips together as Honey’s back presses into the wall. The socks drop to their feet, a forgotten bundle, and hands roam and slide to new places. Finally Elsa gets to stroke that feathery hair, that flawless skin, warm and alive and loving in her hands.

Just then, they hear the door hinges creak ever so slightly. They spring apart and Elsa blinks, dumbfounded, at her sister’s face in the narrow space between the door and door frame.

 _“Anna!”_ she snaps.

“I _knew_ it! You upstagers!” Anna shrieks excitedly. Then in the next instant, she’s gone, off giggling triumphantly down the hall, and Elsa and Honeymaren are left to stare at only each other. It is far from the worst predicament Elsa’s been in.

She lets her eyes skim over the breathless woman in her arms, her gaze following the blush trail that goes up Honey’s neck and spills out into her ears. “Well?” Elsa asks. “I... I think we should do that again.”

“I think so too,” Honey says without an ounce of hesitation. Together, they dive back in.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so i decided to write a second part to this after much demand for a continuation. this probably will be the last of this particular fic, but keep an eye out for more elsamaren/kristanna content from me in the near future! (i may or may not have a modern au multi-chapter in the works...)
> 
> but anyway, thanks so much for the overwhelming love and support on this fic! i never expected such a response and it's definitely the biggest response i've ever received on any of my work (i guess i finally found a huge fandom where my favorite ship is popular! yay!) so yeah i love you guys a lot. thanks for reading <3

Elsa fell asleep hours ago enveloped in Honeymaren’s arms, but when Gale forces its way into their hut halfway through the night, Elsa wakes immediately. The wind spirit sweeps through the hot stillness, waking the air just as much as it rouses the two slumbering women. Elsa follows the dancing swirl of purplish leaves, her eyes trailing them all the way to the end of Gale’s tail, where a new letter from Anna awaits. With one last impatient thrash, the spirit deposits the parchment on Elsa’s lap before slipping away once more, leaving Elsa and Honey to stare at each other anxiously.

Nerves crawling like ants in her fingertips, Elsa picks up the letter. It was hastily folded, not shaped like an animal or an arrow this time, and the handwriting within also indicates a clear lack of care or thought. In fact, the scrawled words aren’t even in Anna’s light, affectionate penmanship— it’s Kristoff’s rough, smudgy writing that greets her now.

_Elsa—_ _it’s happening now. Anna won’t settle down because it’s too early and she won’t listen to me. She’s not making sense and I imagine I’m not making much sense either. Please, she needs you._

_Kristoff_

It doesn’t take effort for Elsa to decode the little spelling and grammar mistakes littered throughout the brief message. Kristoff never received the formal schooling she and Anna did, of course, but Elsa knows her brother-in-law so well by now, and she can feel the panic dripping off the paper, fresh as the dark ink of his words.

“I have to go,” Elsa says. She hasn’t forgotten Honey is sitting across from her, legs folded beneath her, hazel eyes round with concern. The space in the hut (the hut which used to be just Honey’s, the hut that they now share) is too small for Elsa to forget, and the way her girlfriend fills any space she’s in makes it hard for Elsa to forget. Honey surrounds Elsa with her beauty, her smile and her eyes, and her presence is a warm hug.

But then she says, “I’m coming with you.”

Elsa worries her lower lip, considers, then shakes her head. “No, no. I should be alone. Anyone else there will just upset her more.” She rises to her feet, stooping over slightly due to the confines in the structure, and intends that to be an end to the matter.

Nevertheless, Honeymaren follows Elsa outside, her hands set on her hips as she watches Elsa gather a small selection of items into a knapsack. “You’ll be there to watch over her, but who’s going to watch over you? Make sure you’re okay?”

“I don’t need to be watched over—”

Honey’s voice is a low whisper, dominant in the otherwise silent camp. “This kind of thing is overwhelming for everyone involved, Elsie. I won’t get in the way, but you shouldn’t be alone. At least not for the journey, not in the middle of the night.”

Elsa sighs, tilting her head up to meet caramel-colored eyes gleaming with defiance. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Please, at least _accept_ that I’m coming along.” Honey doesn’t succeed in hiding the smirk that frays the corners of her frown; she turns her head away but Elsa still catches it and feels the shiver that ripples down her spine. Damn it, she can’t say no to her. And she told herself, she told _Anna,_ that she would stop pushing other people away.

After a quick stop at Yelena’s tent to inform her of their whereabouts (it’s a very swift exchange of words that ends with “I... I don’t know when we’ll be back”), the pair are once again heading down the fjord to the kingdom with a minimally-packed sled and a reindeer very perturbed to be woken up at an ungodly hour. At one point, the hulking animal comes to a halt and refuses to budge another inch. Honeymaren climbs out of the sled and crouches beside him, running a feather-light hand along his back and murmuring words Elsa can’t hear into his irritably twitching ears. Elsa sits there, watching Honey soothe this huge animal with potentially harmful antlers and a dangerous attitude to match. She marvels at her love’s effortless way of calming the reindeer, coaxing him to pull them onward. By the time Honey hops back beside her in the sled, taking the reins in her hands, Elsa is utterly awestruck. How does _she_ deserve _her?_ And how is it that only Elsa has the hands full of magic? That can’t be true. Honeymaren’s hands possess an entirely different kind of magic, the same way Anna encompasses a spirit bolder than Elsa’s, a spirit just as non-magical as can be.

Elsa spends the rest of the trip with her fingers woven intricately into Honey’s while she worries about her little sister. Elsa knows Anna is far from little; she’s the Queen of Arendelle, and a very strong, smart, capable twenty-two-year-old. But deep down Elsa will always see the ghost of the five-year-old she unintentionally hurt in the face of the woman her sister has grown into. Not to mention that right at this very moment, Anna is in _pain,_ unimaginable pain, something Elsa has a feeling she will never fully understand. She remembers all the comments made behind her back at social functions, little snippets of “when’s a husband coming into the picture” and “she’ll have to produce an heir sooner rather than later.” At one point, all the pressure was on Elsa and Anna was the unneeded extra, there to step up if it came to it. Now the tables have turned, and the reversal was a concept both sisters embraced.

But now Elsa isn’t so sure.

* * *

Arendelle floats into view after some time that refuses to pass by quickly enough. Behind the kingdom is a violent sunrise, with spears of red and flashes of orange shooting up across the sky. It pairs chillingly well with the emotions storming through Elsa, and with the discomfort she feels at the early summer heat pressing into her bones.

Kristoff is pacing at the gates waiting for them. He remains wordless until they slip through the doors, down a hallway or two, then up a staircase. It’s only when they’re standing outside a firmly shut door that he spits out, “They won’t...” He stops, heaves a breath that doesn’t seem to make his panting any better, and begins again. “They won’t let me in there. I- I haven’t seen her in hours. Elsa, I...” His big brown eyes flash and flick back and forth between her and Honey. “I need to know how she’s doing, if she and the baby are... _augh,_ I don’t know.” He runs his hands over his stubble-crusted face. “The midwives told me to get some sleep, as- as if they thought I could just snooze the night away while she’s in there _suffering.”_ He shakes his head rapidly, wild blond strands bouncing on his forehead. “It’s too soon. Th- they said it was still two, three more weeks. I’m so... i- if she...” At last, his sentences taper off, any further worries dying on his tongue, replaced by a low whine that scrapes up his throat.

Elsa is struck senseless, and in an uneasy instant she’s reminded why she never made the best fit as the ruler of a kingdom. Any comfort that had been brewing in her brain dries up in her throat, because that’s her _sister_ he’s talking about. Thankfully, Honeymaren is here.

“Hey.” Honey steps forward, giving one of Kristoff’s shoulders a loving squeeze. “Listen to me. Hey.” She waits until he raises his tear-blurred eyes to meet her firm gaze, then goes on, “Everything is going to be okay. Anna is strong and healthy, and don’t forget what she has survived before now. She and your child will be fine.”

Kristoff bites the inside of his cheek, staring at her with a lost expression on his face. “How do you know that?”

“Because,” Honeymaren says, shooting a side glance at her girlfriend, “standing strong in the face of peril? That seems to run in the family.”

Elsa has never been more in love than right this moment. She can’t recall ever not wanting Honeymaren to accompany her here. But right now she doesn’t have the time to stand there and glow with admiration.

“Come on, let’s wait out here while Elsa checks up on her,” Honeymaren whispers, wrapping her small arm around Kristoff’s broad shoulders— as best as she can reach, at least— and taking him aside. Then she nods at Elsa, and if that wasn’t encouragement enough, the haunted, hollow darkness in Kristoff’s eyes certainly is. Elsa takes a breath to steady herself, then opens the door to Kristoff and Anna’s bedroom.

Almost as soon as she steps inside and shuts the door softly behind her, someone is in her face yelling that she can’t be here— then they stop short of coming nose-to-nose with her, and stumble back.

“Oh! Your majesty! My deepest apologies.” The midwife steps back; she’s one of three currently tending to the queen, and each one of them wear serious expressions, curtains of emotion tightly drawn in Elsa’s presence. 

Elsa also has to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying “There’s no need to call me that,” because she knows there _is_ a need for formalities here, even as laid back and open-armed as Anna’s reign has been so far. Elsa can’t deny the royal blood that still runs through her veins true as ever, despite no longer matching her outer appearance. At this point in her life, Elsa feels more connected to her mother’s recently-discovered lineage. Instead of a crown holding it in place, her hair is falling free down her back, and Elsa can’t recall the last time she bothered wearing eyeshadow or jewels. She’s as Northuldra as a born-and-raised Arendellian can be, and that reminder really makes her wish Honeymaren was here in the room right now... but Kristoff needs her consolation more than Elsa does.

She stands with her back lightly pressed against the door for nearly a minute taking in the scene set before her. The room is quiet, punctuated by whimpers and yelps from her sister. The air is stuffy and warm, but not in a soothing way like Honey’s hut is back in the forest. Elsa already knows there’s a thin layer of worry-ice creeping up the walls even before she moves forward toward the bed.

The midwives huddle amongst themselves around a nearby basin and some scary-looking supplies laid out neatly on a table. Grateful for their appreciation of the sisters’ privacy, Elsa hoists herself up onto the large bed next to her sister. Anna’s face is covered with a light sheen of sweat, and that auburn hair Elsa was always so jealous of is all loose and untamed, sprayed out in a fiery mane on the pillow. Despite the stress lines carved into her face and the raggedy old gown she’s wearing, Anna still looks amazingly radiant for someone in the middle of a long and difficult birth.

“Hey there, sis,” Elsa mumbles, stroking back some flyaway wisps from her sister’s forehead. “How are you?”

“Elsa!” Anna sighs. Elsa knows that if Anna could, she would jump right up and hug her until she burst. To make up for being virtually immobile, an extra dose of excitement gleams in her eyes. “I’ve... well, I’ve been better,” she adds to answer Elsa’s question.

Elsa nods slowly. “I can see that.” She pauses, then, “Kristoff is worried sick about you. He sent a letter and we got here as fast as we could.” She tilts her head sheepishly, pressing her cheek into her shoulder as she gazes down fondly at Anna. “Our reindeer was a bit reluctant. Made me miss Sven.”

Anna’s brow furrows. “We? Our?” Then realization dawns on her face, and she wheezes out a laugh. “You brought Honeymaren!”

“Yes.” Elsa grits her teeth. “I’m sorry, I know it—”

“Shush. Shush. I’m so happy she’s here.” Something happens then, and Anna’s clammy hand thrashes around in the sheets until her fingers close around Elsa’s— then she squeezes, _hard._ “It hurts so bad,” Anna whimpers, her voice crumbling around the syllables. Elsa repositions herself so she’s leaning back against the bed’s headboard with her body curled around Anna’s shuddering form. “I- I suppose Maren doesn’t— doesn’t have any method to make the pain go away faster?”

Elsa shakes her head forlornly and bites down hard on her tongue to keep from crying out; it’s like Anna is literally transferring her pain through their clasped hands. Then she manages to choke out, “No. I wish she did. I wish _I_ did. But she’s out there with your husband calming him down as we speak.” Then something occurs to her, and she lifts her head toward the murmuring midwives. “Speaking of which, could one of you _please_ go out there and tell Kristoff of Anna’s condition? He’s the father, he deserves and is absolutely entitled to frequent updates on the baby’s progress.” She can’t help the snappish tone her words descend into, but in all honesty Elsa feels that it’s apt for the current situation.

The three older women stare dumbly at her for a moment, as if they can’t process “Sir Kristoff” being called just “Kristoff” and “the Queen” being called simply “Anna.” Then one of them scurries out, heeding Elsa’s orders with a huff.

Elsa turns back to her sister and asks, “So what happened? When did this all start?”

Anna seems more relaxed now, the contraction having passed for the time being. Her eyes roll gently to the ceiling as she thinks. “It must’ve been... several hours ago now. I think yesterday evening. I was in a meeting with the royal council and they were being... difficult.” She blows out a slow, measured breath. “I didn’t think anything much of the pains until my water broke. In the middle of the meeting. It was mortifying,” she says, chuckling. “You’d think I would be used to embarrassment by now.”

Elsa uses her thumb to rub soothing circles into the back of her sister’s hand. “You shouldn’t have been in that meeting. Those never cause anything but stress.”

“You sound just like Kristoff. I can’t disagree with you guys, though. I told him I would be fine, and now look where I am.”

Elsa casts another wary glance at the midwives, then says, “But seriously, is everything alright? Have they told you much about your condition and the—”

“— everything is fine. Really,” Anna interrupts, warmly pressing Elsa’s hand between both of hers. “At first I was freaking out, like, a _lot,_ but now it’s better. Please, sis, you don’t have to be so icy about it.” She tries to rub some of her warmth into Elsa’s perpetually chilly fingers, then gives a strained smile as she watches some of the frost creeping up the walls recede. “It’s okay. I’m fine, and the baby is fine. They’re a little early so they might be a bit small, but that’s the worst of it. It’s just been progressing—” Abruptly her words roll to a halt, and she begins grinding her teeth again. Elsa’s hand is reduced to a pile of splintered bones. After a couple minutes, she’s able to stammer out the rest. “It’s just been... progressing slowly. But they say the first is the worst, so it can only get better from here, right?”

Concern is still a ruthless beast gnawing at Elsa’s stomach, but Anna is in no position to hear all of Elsa’s outlandish theories about how things could go wrong. So all Elsa says is “Right.”

* * *

Two hours and many bone-breaking hand squeezes later, Elsa’s niece finally decides to make her entrance into the world. Kristoff is just about ready to break down the door when Elsa emerges with the announcement.

She stands there in the open doorway lost in her own amazement. Kristoff and Honeymaren are staring at her, two pairs of dark eyes brimming with exasperation. Sven, who must’ve joined them at some point in the last couple hours, is also staring, perplexed. Elsa forgets everything she’d been planning to say. Then, at last, she sketches out two faint but reassuring words: “She’s here.”

“She?” Kristoff tears himself away from Honey, pouncing toward Elsa to peer around her into the room. “It’s a girl?” Everything except pure, unfiltered joy melts off his face, and he collapses into Elsa’s arms, holding her tight and letting out a dry sob. “I have a daughter!”

_“Ahem, we_ have a daughter!” Anna’s voice calls from behind Elsa.

Elsa grimaces against his weight, but hugs him back, patting his back for a moment before saying, “Now get in there! There’s a princess who needs a name.”

Now it’s just her, Honey, and Sven left in the dim hallway. Honey is slouched against the wall, her fingers buried deep in the soft fur between Sven’s antlers. The reindeer grunts, eyes closed in ecstasy as she scratches a favorite spot. Elsa is positively exhausted, and it just about takes the last of her energy to admire the gentle way her girlfriend’s hair tumbles past her left shoulder, swept to one side and left unbraided from the night before.

“Come here,” Honey hums, and Elsa throws herself onto the carpeted floor next to her. She exhales long and slow, and their hands are connected before Elsa’s butt even hits the ground. “Anna is well too?” Honey asks after a minute or two.

“She’s perfect,” Elsa breathes. “They both are.” She closes her heavy eyelids and steadies her breaths, which had been very panicked and uneven ever since she arrived here. Then she leans away from Honey’s shoulder so she can look up at her. “Thank you for being here. I never should’ve questioned it. Thank you for staying with him.”

Honey never fully accepts a compliment; that’s something Elsa has learned over the past few years. It bothers the hell out of her because out of _anyone_ on this planet, Honeymaren is the most deserving of compliments. She should revel in all the sweet nothings and embrace all the sweet everythings. It’s something Elsa is learning to do herself.

So, because Honey is a mirror who reflects the best of herself (which is all of herself) onto others, she replies, “You were amazing, Elsie. You set a flawless example for sisters everywhere.”

Elsa can’t help but doubt that; it’s more like _Anna_ is the flawless example. Elsa never asked for such a loving sister, but that was because she never _had_ to ask; she was destined to have one from birth. But again, Elsa is learning to embrace a good quality in herself whenever one is found. So she moves in closer and accepts Honeymaren’s compliment with a kiss, the long, slow kind where their lips sing a silent song together.


End file.
